A Parting Gift
by razztaztic
Summary: Dr. Lance Sweets left one final gift for Brennan - the truth about Zack Addy.
1. Chapter 1

_I need this story like I need a hole in the head but after the S10 opener and Eric Millegan's tweet, it practically writes itself. It will be a short one, probably only 2-4 chapters. _

_._

_._

* * *

><p>.<p>

Two weeks had passed since the funeral.

Life slowly returned to normal . . . a painfully new version of normal that now included a gaping hole in the space once occupied by a well-loved friend.

Work resumed, as it always did. The business of death never stopped. The ghosts that filled the brightly lit spaces in the lab were as restless as ever, their silent whispers an endless plea for answers . . . for justice . . . for peace. There was comfort there, as odd as the acknowledgment sometimes felt. No matter what happened in the world outside, inside the lab you could hide among the dead.

It was a trick they'd all used before. Some of them more than once.

Just now, they were all doing it again, burying themselves among the bones and the whispering ghosts and hoping for a few precious moments of forgetting. They were so busy being busy, in fact, that it was a rude shock when the double doors slid open and Daisy appeared.

After a beat of surprised silence, Angela rushed down the steps and pulled her into a hug.

"Daisy! What are you doing here? You should be home resting!"

Her concern was valid. The expectant mother was pale, the purple shadows under her eyes deeper than ever. Despite the new fullness of her cheeks added by the last stages of pregnancy, her face looked wan and almost gaunt.

Daisy shifted the rectangular white box in her arms to a more comfortable position.

"I found something . . ." She sought out Brennan. "I thought you should see it."

With a snap of latex, Brennan removed her gloves and tucked them away in the pocket of her blue coat as she descended the platform. When she reached Daisy, she put an arm around the younger woman's shoulders.

"Come sit down. The last few weeks before childbirth can be difficult under normal conditions. You should be more careful."

Daisy accepted their concern and fussy scolding with bittersweet patience, aware that it was as much for her child and his now absent father as it was for her. She was soon settled on the sofa in Brennan's office with a cup of herbal tea, a pillow at her back, and a circle of curious faces surrounding her.

She patted the box in her lap.

"I was going through Lance's things -"

A lump in her throat choked off the rest of the words. Gentle hands patted her shoulders and knees until she managed to find a modicum of composure.

"I was going through Lance's things." Her shoulders straightened with an air that testified to her determination to remain focused. "I found this."

She removed the lid from the box to reveal a stack of typewritten pages. Her eyes locked on the woman she idolized.

"It's a draft of a book he was writing. I started reading it last night and once I realized what it was, I knew you should have it, Dr. Brennan."

Brennan merely looked puzzled.

"I thought he'd long ago discarded the book he was writing about me and Booth. It was based on a faulty premise and as such, his findings were completely inaccurate. It's unpublishable."

Daisy shook her head. Her expression was almost apologetic.

"It's not about you and Agent Booth." She hesitated only briefly. "It's about one of your former interns. It's about Dr. Addy."

Brennan stared at the box for a few seconds and then brushed her fingertips lightly on the edge of the first sheet. The faintest trace of a smile curved her lips.

"I was aware that Dr. Sweets continued to see Zack regularly. I visit him every month. He mentioned it to me several times."

With her next breath, Brennan discarded the almost wistful air and assumed a brusque, impersonal mien.

"You never met Dr. Addy," she said to Daisy. "He is a brilliant scientist and that is still true despite his present circumstances. If he had not allowed himself to be manipulated by a monster and ultimately driven to commit murder . . . Well." Sadness and regret showed in her face. "He had enormous potential. He was the brightest of all my interns."

"No."

Brennan chuckled. "Ms. Wick . . . Daisy," she amended. "You are very intelligent and an excellent forensic anthropology student but you are not in the same category as -"

"Dr. Addy didn't kill anyone." Daisy held the box out to Brennan. "He lied. It's all in here. Read it."

Brennan now stared at the manuscript as if it were a snake about to strike.

"He confessed," she blurted out. "Rather than risk a trial, he confessed to murder. He's been incarcerated in a mental hospital for seven years."

"He felt responsible even though he didn't actually kill anyone." Daisy's voice was gentle as she offered the explanation. "Dr. Addy had a chance to bring the murderer to justice and instead, he helped him find more victims. He confessed out of guilt." She offered the box to Brennan once more. "Lance set it all out here because he hoped one day to be able to tell you the truth. He even wrote a note to himself to think about a snappy dedication to you."

"I knew it," Hodgins breathed quietly from his chair beside the sofa. "I knew Zack wasn't capable of murder."

"You have to read it, Dr. Brennan," Daisy insisted. Her eyes began to swim when she noticed the tears glimmering in Brennan's. "It's Lance's gift to you. It's his last gift."

With her reluctance obvious in the slowness of her movements, Brennan reached for the box.

.

.

* * *

><p><em>.<em>

_FYI, I am not in the Bring Back Zack! club but I do think Brennan should know the truth about him.  
><em>

_Thanks for reading!_


	2. Chapter 2

It was all there.

After a terse explanation during dinner, Booth kept Christine occupied while Brennan studied the sheets Daisy had left with her.

Spread out over the dining room table, on page after page, the truth bled out from the words Sweets had written.

The first contact from Gormogon . . .

_No_, Brennan bitterly corrected her inner thoughts as she continued to read. _The Master. Zack called him The Master._

His chilling, carefully planned pursuit of her brilliant intern. Flattery couched as nothing more than the simple acknowledgment of Zack's genius. Carefully worded conversations meant to gauge his malleability and his willingness to test and prove a theory.

Zack never saw it coming. His cleverness made him naive and his naiveté made him vulnerable.

" _. . . there's a fault in your logic . . ."_

Brennan dropped her head into the palm of one hand. _No, the fault was mine. I should have been more careful with him. I should have prepared him for the possibility of being approached by someone like The Master. I should have -_

"AHHHHHH! The giants are coming to get me!"

Christine ran screaming across the room, the mock terror in her voice almost lost beneath her childish laughter and Booth's growls as he chased after her.

Tense and on edge from the strain of the difficult day, Brennan's temper snapped.

"Christine! I have asked you on several occasions to please not yell or run inside the house!"

Surprised, the little girl immediately came to a skidding stop. Her mother never yelled.

Behind Christine, Booth frowned.

His disapproval was unnecessary. Instantly contrite, Brennan left her chair and crouched in front of their daughter.

"I'm sorry." She grasped Christine's hands and squeezed. "I received some new information today about a former student of mine that I find very distressing. I have to re-evaluate events from the past in light of these developments and that is causing me a great deal of pain. This student was special to me and it appears that I misjudged him badly." She blinked away tears as she offered the heartfelt apology. "However, I should not have taken my anxiety out on you. I am very sorry. Please forgive me."

Eyes huge, Christine silently listened to her mother's earnest recitation.

Then she looked up at Booth.

He obligingly translated.

"Mommy's got some heavy thinking to do so you need to button it, kid." Sensing a distraction was in order, he swept her up high in his arms and gave her a smacking kiss on the cheek. "Guess who's giving you a bath tonight?"

The piping response was immediate. "You are!"

"That's right!" He kissed her again, set her back on her feet and prodded her along with a gentle pat on her shoulders. "Why don't you go on and get ready. I'll be there in just a minute, okay?"

"Okay! I'm going to use the purple bubbles!" Christine's blue eyes danced merrily as she skipped away.

"No!" Booth groaned with loud, melodramatic theatrics. "Not the purple bubbles!"

High-pitched, girlish giggles floated out behind her as she ran.

"ALL THE PURPLE BUBBLES!"

Her parents were still smiling when she disappeared into her room but the amusement quickly faded from Brennan's face. She looked at Booth and began to apologize again.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have raised my voice -"

"Shhhh. She's already forgotten about it." Booth silenced her with a shake of his head as he drew her close. "Come here."

Brennan was trembling and her skin was colder than warranted by the warmth of the interior of their home. She accepted the comfort he offered, resting her head on his shoulders when he rubbed his hands up and down her back.

"I was wrong, Booth," she whispered. "It's all so obvious now. I can't believe I missed it."

He drew back far enough to look down into her eyes. "You believed someone who had never lied to you. You saw what he wanted you to see. We all did." When she would have argued further, he kept talking. "Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to give Christine a bath and then we'll both read her a story together. Maybe two," he smiled,"since you're feeling guilty. And then you and I will sit down and talk about this whole thing with Addy. Okay?"

When he had her agreement, he kissed her and let her go.

"Have a glass of wine," he suggested. "And leave all of that -" His hand waved toward the table and the pages scattered over it. " - alone for now."

.

.

.

An hour later they sat next to each other in the dining room. Brennan laid out individual pages as she made her argument.

"Dr. Sweets was very thorough. He persuaded Zack to detail the entire relationship, every step The Master took in his recruitment. The manipulation is obvious. We have to get him released immediately."

Booth shook his head. "Bones . . ."

"Gormogon was the murderer!" Brennan insisted. "Gormogon and the apprentice he killed so that he could recruit Zack! Zack is innocent!"

"No, he's not." Booth's tone was hard and it shut Brennan down at once.

"But . . ."

"It doesn't matter that he wasn't the one holding the knife. He delivered Porter to Gormogon," he reminded her. "And who knows how many other people would have died if he hadn't blown himself up first? In the eyes of the law, he's just as guilty."

Brennan's jaw lifted mutinously.

"I don't accept that. Zack didn't kill anyone. He's spent seven years locked away while we all thought he was a murderer. Well, we were wrong and I'm going to get him released."

"That's not going to happen." Booth was just as implacable. "That hospital he's in is the best place for him right now. It's enough that you know that he didn't personally kill anyone. Let it go, Bones."

The stubborn set of her chin was not a portent of someone who intended to take that advice.

.

.

.

Brennan's visit to Caroline Julian the next day was no more helpful. The prosecutor looked at the loose stack of paper without touching it.

"What do you expect me to do with that, _cher_?"

Brennan crossed her arms over her chest and stared down at the woman behind the desk.

"I expect you to have Dr. Addy released from the mental hospital he's been a prisoner of for seven years."

"Is that all?" One manicured eyebrow arched high. "And here I thought you might want something impossible - like setting a confessed murderer free." She waved away Brennan's immediate protest. "What does Dr. Addy have to say about this?"

"I . . . haven't seen him yet," Brennan admitted reluctantly. "The hospital's usual visiting day is tomorrow. I plan to discuss it with him then."

"Hmmmpf." Her expression changed to that of someone resigned to delivering bad news. "Dr. Brennan, this is a nice little story but even if Dr. Sweets were still alive - God rest his soul - he's offered no proof beyond the words of a mental patient convicted of murder. And if you'll remember, our cannibal was killed partaking of his last meal so we can't ask him, either. I'm sorry, _cherie_. Your Dr. Addy is going to have to stay right where he is."

"That is unacceptable."

Brennan spun on her heel and marched out of the office.


	3. Chapter 3

As prisons went, this was probably the nicest of any she'd seen . . . and she'd seen plenty of them. Amy Morton looked around curiously as she and Brennan stopped at a guard's station to have their persons and their belongings searched before they were allowed further inside.

She mentally corrected her own phrasing. _Not prison. Hospital. Mental institution._ _ Although . . . _Taking note of the bars on the windows and the carefully controlled access to doors and interior corridors, she amended her thoughts once again.

_A prison is a prison is a prison._

"Please do not shuffle those pages out of order!"

The acerbic tones drew her attention to the tall, dark haired woman in front of her. Brennan stared down the security officer as he rifled through the manuscript in the white box, practically daring him to misplace one sheet.

He didn't.

Amy studied the anthropologist without comment as they were led into a small visitors room, still somewhat shocked to find herself in Brennan's company. Considering the events that followed their previous meeting, the last person she'd ever expected to hear from again was Dr. Temperance Brennan.

Well, okay, maybe the _last _person was Special Agent Seeley Booth but Dr. Brennan was a close second, and seeing as how that 'just partners' thing turned into marriage and a kid, it was pretty much the same thing.

Amy squared her shoulders and shrugged away the trace of self-doubt that lingered. _I was just doing my job. I can't be held responsible for what happened after _. . .

"Dr. Brennan!"

He was happy to see her. That much was obvious by the smile on his face when a uniformed guard ushered Zack Addy inside.

Amy smiled, too, professional and friendly, only to be ignored when Zack's gaze skimmed over her and then the box on the table, before he focused on Brennan.

"I was surprised when I saw your name on the visitor's log today," he said, as he sat down. His gloved hands fell loosely to his lap, out of their view. "I saw the news report about Dr. Sweets. Is that why you're here? Will you be coming more often now that he's dead?"

_Oh, right_, Amy thought, as she deliberately studied her nails. _I remember you now. Straight to the point and no filter. _

When she glanced up, she noticed the fond expression on Brennan's face as she looked at her former intern and tried to view the man seated across from them through the same lens. He was in need of a haircut, she mused, but the somewhat shaggy look suited him. He'd also put on weight since she'd last seen him; in the baggy hospital jumpsuit, the pounds were unnoticeable, but his cheeks were full and round and almost childlike. He looked a decade younger than the age of 34 listed in his file.

"I hope that won't be necessary."

At her words, Zack's forehead wrinkled into a frown.

"What do you mean?"

Brennan finally acknowledged Amy with a wave of one hand.

"This is Amy Morton. You may not remember her but -"

"I remember her." Zack interrupted the introduction. The welcoming smile was gone when he fixed Amy with a pointed stare. "Your efforts led to Howard Epps receiving a stay of execution. He later escaped from prison, murdered two others, including his ex-wife, and almost succeeded in killing me and Dr. Saroyan."

Amy grimaced at the succinct recitation. _Never gonna live that one down, am I?_

"Yea, that's me. Thanks for reminding me about that."

The sarcasm sailed over Zack's head.

"You're welcome."

"While her efforts to free Howard Epps were misguided and had unintended consequences," Brennan continued doggedly, "Ms. Morton is obviously a very dedicated defense attorney. I've taken the liberty of engaging her services on your behalf. As your legal representative, this conversation is protected under attorney-client privilege and can't be recorded."

Amy stole a glance at Brennan from the corner of her eye. _Engaged my services? You barged into my office and bullied me into taking his case -_

"Why is that necessary?"

Zack's suspicious tone dragged Amy's attention away from the memory of the prior afternoon and Brennan's sudden appearance and relentless demands.

Brennan laid one hand on the box in front of her.

"A manuscript was found among Dr. Sweets' possessions. He was writing a book, Zack. About you."

When he didn't respond, Brennan removed the lid and pushed the box toward him.

"He used his interviews with you to piece together the story of your relationship with Gormogan. Dr. Sweets laid out in great detail the methods used to manipulate you into doing The Master's bidding, into becoming his apprentice. I believe - and Ms. Morton agrees," she added, "that this documentation could be used to secure your release."

"I said it might be helpful," Amy clarified swiftly. She ignored the look of irritation Brennan shot her. "It's a starting point. Given the time you've already served, we could use the information compiled by Dr. Sweets to argue -"

"Do you know what this means?" Brennan obviously found Zack's lack of reaction to her announcement disconcerting. "We can get you released. You can leave here!"

Zack's gloved hands stayed in his lap, below the table. His face remained impassive.

"Where would I go?"

There was a beat of silence.

"What?" Brennan was taken aback by the question.

"Where would I go?" Zack calmly repeated his query. "Dr. Hodgins lost his fortune. He was forced to sell the Cantilever estate along with his other assets. I no longer have access to the apartment above the garage. Where would I go?"

Amy's gaze flicked rapidly between them. Brennan looked as confused as she herself felt.

"You'd be free to go anywhere," Brennan answered finally, as if that much should be obvious. "You could go to your family in Michigan. You could even stay with us, if you wanted, until you decided on something permanent. You could meet Christine. She's a wonderful little girl -"

"Has Agent Booth agreed to that?"

A pink flush warmed Brennan's cheeks. "Well . . . no. Not yet. But he will as soon as I mention it to him –"

Zack cut her off. "What would I do? Where would I work?"

Brennan's attempt at a dismissive chuckle rang hollow. "I'm sure we could find you something at the lab –"

He was already shaking his head.

"I'm a convicted felon, Dr. Brennan, and one who has been labeled mentally unstable. Any evidence I handled would be drawn into question by the court."

"But –"

Her presence ignored, perhaps forgotten, Amy listened to Zack's rejection of Brennan's offer of freedom with a stunned expression that matched the other woman's. This conversation was not going at all as she had expected.

Clearly, it was not going according to Brennan's plan, either.

"This is my home, Dr. Brennan."

"Zack –" She blinked away the sudden appearance of tears.

"It's not as uncomfortable as you assume," he said evenly. "I'm a figure of some stature here. Because of my intelligence, the other patients look to me as a person of authority. Even the man who believes he is Theodore Roosevelt seeks my advice."

Amy quickly turned a burst of uncomfortable laughter into a cough.

Brennan was fiercely insistent. "You didn't kill Ray Porter. You shouldn't be here!"

Zack shook his head. "My actions led directly to his death. I'm responsible even if I didn't wield the knife."

"That is an important distinction," Brennan snapped. "You've been held prisoner inside this institution for seven years, Zack! Isn't that enough?"

Zack didn't blink.

"I would have killed him, Dr. Brennan. I would have done anything The Master asked me to."

"I don't believe that." She became bullish. "You could never take a human life. I should have known that from the beginning."

"I don't share your confidence," he replied. "I didn't commit the physical act of murder only because I was stopped before it was requested of me. I was susceptible to manipulation once. It is rational to acknowledge the risk that I might one day fall prey again to a dominant personality. I remain a danger to society."

Brennan shook her head. Her eyes shimmered behind a film of moisture. "No, Zack -"

"I'm content here, Dr. Brennan." He faced her, confident and sure in his decision. "I've built a life of usefulness and purpose, even in these circumstances. I'm in contact through correspondence with some of the preeminent scientists in the world. Are you familiar with Edvard Moser?"

The heavy weight of resignation began to settle over Brennan's shoulders as Zack's certainty and assurance sank in.

"Yes. He was just awarded the Nobel Prize for Medicine."

Zack raised his hands. Even within the black leather gloves, the fingers on each hand were obviously withered and damaged.

"I've regained approximately 73% normal usage, slightly more on my dominant right hand. I don't anticipate further progress. I accept the loss of functionality as part of the price I must pay for my involvement with The Master. The other part is my stay in this facility. My contribution to society now is through examining and discussing the work of others who are not so encumbered. It's enough."

Brennan swiped away a tear that escaped down her cheek.

Zack looked at the manuscript set between them.

"I did not give Dr. Sweets permission to write this book. His death does not end my right to confidentiality." His gaze swerved abruptly to Amy. "That's correct, isn't it?"

"Well . . . I . . . No." Startled by his unexpected address to her, Amy stammered a bit. "I mean, yes, we'd need your authority to move forward but . . ."

Zack nudged the box toward Brennan.

"I'm glad you know the truth, Dr. Brennan, but my place is here. I'm sorry your trip today was unproductive."

He pushed away from the table, crossed to the door and rapped his knuckles against it twice.

When it opened, he turned back.

"I know you're disappointed," he acknowledged quietly. His expression was suddenly uncertain. "Will you continue to visit me?"

Brennan was unashamedly crying but forced a smile for his benefit.

"Of course I will, Zack. Every month."

His head dipped. "Thank you. I'll look forward it."

Without a word of goodbye, he allowed the guard to lead him away.

Silence fell in the small room. Uncomfortably aware of the grieving woman beside her, Amy shifted in her chair.

"He might change his mind. A few more years in here and -"

"He won't." Suddenly businesslike, Brennan wiped her cheeks dry, tucked the lid back on the manuscript's box and stood up. "He's made a decision based on the evidence before him. It's done."

She didn't say another word as they went through a final security check and left the hospital. It wasn't until they reached the parking lot and a tall, suit-clad figure straightened from where he leaned against Brennan's car that she spoke again.

"Booth."

When he opened his arms, she went right into them.

"He doesn't want my help." Her voice was muffled against his shoulder. "He doesn't want to be free."

"I figured." He pressed a kiss against her forehead.

Brennan drew back. "How?"

"Because he told Sweets instead of you." He tucked a loose, windblown strand of hair behind her ear. "He knew Sweets couldn't do anything about it but you'd move heaven and earth to get him out." As he spoke, his eyes met Amy's. "I didn't expect you to stoop this low, though."

"Hey!" Irritated, Amy paused as she unlocked her car. "There was legitimate doubt in Epps' case! Even you said -"

Booth dismissed her by the simple act of ignoring her in favor of Brennan.

"Let's pick Christine up from daycare and take her to the park. We can rent a paddle wheel boat."

As abrupt in her own way as Zack, Brennan didn't say goodbye to Amy, either, or offer a thank you when she rounded her own car to get behind the wheel.

"That is an excellent idea."

They drove away in separate cars, leaving Amy standing alone in the parking lot, frowning after them.

.

.

*The End*

.

* * *

><p>.<p>

_I apologize to those of you who expected a warm and fuzzy story about Zack returning to the lab like their own version of the Prodigal Son. I think he needs to stay where he is, too. (Although I'm still hoping that Brennan finds out he didn't kill anyone.)_

_Thanks for reading._


End file.
